Stitches (By Shawn Mendas) In Poetry ‘The Words Hurt Me More Than the Sharpest Blades’

I loved it the first time you said 'I love you,'

'Cause I knew I'd loved you, too.

I took the bait,

not wantin' to wait

and think things through.

Then came the first blow,

it hit me so hard, and the world went slow.

The words hurt more than the sharpest blades,

but it wouldn't of helped if we had played chirades.

I was hurt behond releif,

hopin' you'd turn over a new leaf.

There was nothing a docter could truly do,

if I asked for stitches on my heart,

could they see it through?

The theripists wouldn't work out,

for you were all I could think about!

I'm over it now, I told myself it was all fake.

Though I cried enough tears to fill a lake.

A lake that almost drowned me,

my fears working as gravity.

I told myself move on...

and finally I was ready to face

a new dawn!

'Cause I finally got over you,

I found a way to make it through.

Though my heart did split in half,

time was like the most painful stitches,

freeing me from your wrath.